


Fracture

by LadyVader23



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dark, Gen, no happy ending, people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader23/pseuds/LadyVader23
Summary: After the Sith twins take their father's words a bit too seriously, they end up committing a crime so horrific that Vader defects to the Rebellion, intent on bringing his children back to the light with him. But the twins, betrayed by their father's decision, have plans of their own. Can Vader save his children from themselves before it's too late?
Relationships: Leia Organa & Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85





	Fracture

**Author's Note:**

> The story concept came from this art by Effigycow. Thank you and others on SilverDaye's server for letting me run with this and I'm sorry it took so long! Also, again, this is dark, so you've been warned.  
> https://twitter.com/effigycrow/status/1237483737618821120?s=21

When Bail Organa had called him for help, Obi-Wan had expected a number of various scenarios. All of which only involved his advice and counsel in regards to efforts against the Empire. He was, after all, far too old to be on the front lines fighting the good fight. And even then, he hadn’t expected Bail’s call at all, considering how he was the reason Luke and Leia had fallen into Vader’s hands shortly after he’d dropped them off at the Lars homestead on Tatooine. Bail especially had every reason to hold it against him, considering he’d refused to let him adopt Leia without Luke. 

Yet he’d called, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but answer. But when he arrived on Yavin IV, he did not expect to walk into a war counsel with  _ Vader  _ standing between Bail and Mon Mothma. 

“Thank you for joining us, Master Kenobi.” Mon Mothma spoke so cooly, it was as if she didn’t have one of the main causes for the Empire practically breathing down her neck. “There will be no need for your lightsaber. You can put it away now.” 

Indeed, his first reaction was to pull out his lightsaber. He hadn’t ignited it--he truly  _ was  _ in no condition to fight and win against Vader, but he’d reached for his ever constant companion anyway. 

He didn’t heed her words. 

“Vader.” He greeted, carefully, stretching out with his senses to get a better read on the other man’s intentions than any conversation could ever give. 

He was hit with the predictable anger of someone who’d spent the last nineteen years as a pupil of the Sith, but it was rather subdued. Instead, there were other feelings Obi-Wan wasn’t aware he  _ could  _ feel. Regret, sorrow, shame. Even the anger wasn’t primarily directed at him, though he did sense a grudge still there. 

There was a shift in the Force as he recognized this, and he lowered his unlit lightsaber. 

“Kenobi.” Vader’s deep, modulated voice acknowledged. Grudgingly. 

He tried to imagine Anakin standing there in place of the suit. The man who screamed that he’d failed him in his dreams nightly. The man he’d left to burn on the shores of Mustafar, unable to deliver the killing blow even as he foolishly hoped nature would do the rest. The creature standing in front of him felt somewhat like Anakin, but that part was overshadowed by the monster that had taken over in every possible way. 

How was he supposed to respond in this situation? Nothing all his years as a Jedi had prepared him for this. 

“What do I owe for the pleasure?” He settled with sarcasm. That had always worked well with Grievous and Dooku. 

Vader’s fists tightened, but he didn’t go for his lightsaber. “It would seem you have changed very little.” Was that annoyance? Envy? Regret? All three? Vader’s emotions were too jumbled to fully tell. 

But there was no intent to kill, or even attack. 

“I understand there is...history between you two,” Bail began, and Obi-Wan wryly thought  _ history  _ didn’t even begin to cover what happened between them, “But Lord Vader has come with a peace offering.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed. Sith didn’t make peace. “From the Emperor?” 

The room temperature fell a few degrees as Vader’s mood plunged. “From myself.” 

His brow furrowed, even as his interest perked. “What sort of peace offering?” 

_ What sort of peace offering could you possibly provide that would make up for everything you’ve done to the galaxy? To your family?  _

_ To me?  _

That’s what he wanted to say. 

But he didn’t. 

Mon touched a button on the table console, and a spherical hologram appeared in the center. Now it was Obi-Wan’s mood that dropped as he recognized the Death Star, the weapon of the Empire. Newly unveiled with a literal bang as it blew up Jedha just days prior. 

But this was no ordinary hologram. Mon touched another button, and the hologram zoomed in, revealing intimate details of the super weapon. “Lord Vader brought us the plans for the Death Star.” She confirmed grimly. “And it has an exploitable weakness.” 

“Which I plan to assist the Alliance in destroying.” Vader added darkly. 

Obi-Wan stared at the hologram, trying to piece together what this meant. His lightsaber felt heavy in his hand. “Why?” He finally asked, voice tight. 

There was a silence, only broken by Vader’s mechanical breathing. Finally, he replied. “I have...made grave mistakes.” Even with the voice modulator, Vader sounded like the words strangled him, but the Force confirmed he meant them. “Jedha was not blown up by the Death Star. It...it was blown up by my...my children.” 

Obi-Wan blinked, sure he hadn’t heard him right. “Luke and Leia?” 

Vader’s mood darkened further, and now Obi-Wan got the distinct impression he was considering strangling him anyhow. “Yes, those would be my children.” He replied bitterly. 

He’d known the twins were essentially servants of the Sith, little better than Ventress had been, but… “ _ How?”  _

Another long, painful silence, during which Bail shifted nervously. “The Death Star was supposed to be quietly unveiled for the military elite. It was only supposed to show a fraction of its power. The laser didn’t work. Luke and Leia combined their powers to ignite the core themselves.” 

Yet even with that explanation, Obi-Wan still couldn’t believe it.  _ “How?”  _

Now he could definitely sense the misery and regret from his former apprentice as clear as day. “It’s my fault. I turned them into this. They knew of my distaste for the weapon, and they took my words too literally.” 

“ _ What words?”  _ His mind was whirling. He wasn’t even aware of such a power to be able to  _ destroy and entire planet-- _

“I...said in passing to them that the power to destroy a planet was insignificant next to the power of the Force.” 

He hooked his lightsaber on his belt, only to reach up and rub his beard. Vader technically hadn’t been wrong, but he would never have thought even the most powerful Sith could do such a thing. But if there were two, working together, and were the children of the most powerful Force sensitive to ever be born… 

“You’re sure?” 

“I was  _ right there.”  _

“And this isn’t what you wanted?”  _ You took them. You killed the Lars family, took them when they were but babes, and you twisted them, you did this…  _

And though Obi-Wan hadn’t intended to broadcast those thoughts for Vader to hear, it seemed he sensed them anyway. 

_ I know.  _ He heard in his head...and that voice, the unmodulated internal voice, was very much Anakin’s. 

It was suddenly hard to breathe. 

“Sidious has spent years on that failure of a planet killer, and in one afternoon, I unintentionally handed him that very same tool. I...I never thought they could do something so…” he trailed off. 

“So evil? So perverted?” 

A pause. “Yes.” 

Sorrow and regret, so deep that it was almost suffocating. That’s what Obi-Wan felt from Vader. 

He understood it all too well. It was for that reason, he should have said no. In fact, some deep, vindictive part of him wanted to say no, just to spite the man who’d ruined his life. 

And yet…

He’d heard Anakin’s voice. He could sense him, though it was still overshadowed by the darkness that was Vader. It shouldn’t have been possible.

If there was a chance he could do the impossible and bring Anakin back while also saving the galaxy from the terrors that were the Naberrie-Skywalker twins, shouldn’t he take it? 

“Alright.” He finally said, and he noticed Mon and Bail relax marginally. To be fair, he didn’t know what Vader would have done if he’d refused, either. “What do you need from me?” 

* * *

Luke stared out at the stars, arms crossed over his chest. The peace he often felt aboard his personal Star Destroyer, the  _ Star Killer,  _ eluded him. Not when he had nothing to do but be alone with his thoughts, thoughts that too often strayed to his father’s harsh words only days before. 

_ “What you’ve done is an abomination! The Force was never meant to be used this way!”  _

His hands clenched into fists, and his golden-eyed glare reflected back at him in the viewport. 

Abomination. 

_ Abomination.  _

His father had rebuked them before, but never like that. Never with such disdain. Never with such  _ disgust.  _

Never with such horror. 

If they’d done something terrible, like joining the Rebellion or  _ worse,  _ the Jedi, he would have understood. But they’d only done exactly what their father had taught them. They’d shown exactly what the power of the Dark Side could do when the Emperor’s stupid Death Star had failed to work. How was that  _ bad?  _

It didn’t help that the Emperor had awarded them by moving them back to the  _ Star Killer. _ He at least praised them for their ingenuity, but if that was the case, why had he put Tarkin in charge of getting the Death Star up and running? 

“Maybe because he knows we did it because you and I know the Death Star is doomed to fail and don’t actually want it to succeed.” Leia answered his thoughts as she entered the room, the blast doors automatically swishing closed behind her. 

He didn’t bother turning around, not as she came to join him by his side. Where she’d always been. 

Where she always would be. 

At least he could count on her. 

“The Emperor attributed our feat to the Death Star.” She told him after a silence. 

A wave of pure, black, burning  _ hatred  _ seethed through him. “That fucking  _ idiot.”  _

“I know.” Though she sounded calm, he could feel her wrath was just as dark as his was. 

“What if Krennic and Tarkin can’t get the blasted thing to work?!” 

“They won’t.” 

“They  _ hate  _ each other probably more than Sith hate Jedi--” 

“I don’t think you could go that far.” 

His jaw snapped shut and he huffed through his nose. “Fine. You get the point.” 

“I do.” She agreed. “But that’s not the only news I have for you.” 

Now her voice simmered with her fury, and when he checked their bond for clues, he recoiled at the agonizing  _ betrayal  _ he sensed there. 

A bad feeling settled in his gut. “What?” He almost didn’t want to know. How could it be any worse than his father calling what they’d done  _ for him  _ an abomination? 

He shouldn’t have asked that question, because the next words out of Leia’s mouth were  _ definitely  _ worse. 

“Father defected.” 

He went cold, whirling away from the viewport. “That’s not true.” But even as he denied it, he felt the truth of Leia’s words like a stab to the gut. “That’s  _ impossible!”  _

She met his eyes, and even through her hatred, he felt her sting of pity. They both loved their father and strived to please him, but Luke had always been closer to him. He’d been his  _ idol.  _

And now everything he’d thought he’d known about his father was crumbling right before him. 

“I don’t need your pity.” He spat, even as he whirled away from her, pulling out his comm. He’d call his father. Sure, their last conversation hadn’t gone  _ well,  _ but he was still Darth Vader, right hand to the Emperor. He was no  _ Rebel.  _

“Could’ve fooled me.” Leia replied dryly. “Don’t bother. I already tried.” 

He tried it anyway. Straight to message recording. 

“Who told you this?!” He demanded, hanging up and trying again. Same results. 

“The Emperor, of course.” 

“He’s  _ lying,  _ you know he wants us to--” 

“I thought so too.” He felt her yank on their bond, demanding his attention. He turned to find her holding out a holo, lit up to show irrefutable data. “The Death Star plans were stolen from Scarif shortly after our...disagreement with Father.” 

“ _ No!”  _

She continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “The records show it was accessed by someone with top tier credentials. It didn’t take long for a slicer to find out whose.” 

“He  _ wouldn’t!  _ It has to be doctored!” 

“It’s not. You can check it for yourself if you want.” 

He snatched the holo from her, going through the information himself, looking for any tell tale signs of doctored information. On the surface at least, it appeared legitimate. “Even if he did, there must be a reason besides turning to the Rebellion--” 

“The Rebellion is massing an offensive team and is heading for Scarif as we speak.” 

“We don’t know Father is there!” 

Leia leveled an icy, golden-eyed stare on him. “What do your feelings tell you, Luke?” 

He stared back at her, breathing hard...then the holo in his hands shattered as the Force whispered nothing but the cold, hard truth. His legs began to shake, and he sat down to hide it, rubbing his hands over his face in the hopes that he’d wake up from this terrible nightmare. “ _ Why?”  _

Now Leia hesitated, even as she approached him and knelt in front of him. “I don’t know.” 

“What did we  _ do wrong?”  _

She took his hands and pulled them away from his face so they could look at each other. “I don’t know.” 

And beneath that betrayal, he felt her hatred and her sorrow echoing his. 

He wasn’t alone in this. It wasn’t just him his father had betrayed. He’d turned on them both...for what? For trying to please him?! 

“Leia,” he breathed, and they pressed their foreheads together. A gesture they’d done as children when one or the other was upset. They hadn’t done so in many years, but now it felt right. “What do we  _ do?”  _

“The Emperor wants us to rendezvous at Scarif. He wants us to defend the Death Star.” 

Her tone and his bond with her told him she wanted to do anything but. 

“And if Father really is there? Fighting for the Rebels?” The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but they needed to be said. 

Her eyes stayed steady on his. “Then we kill him.” 

That, she was more sure about. 

He pulled away so fast, it was as if she’d burned him. “He’s our  _ Father.”  _

“And we were his children!” She argued. “He turned against us because he thinks we’re abominations!” 

Something neither of them understood, but they didn’t voice that aloud. 

He tried to imagine shooting his father down. Because that’s how they planned to take the Death Star, right? With spacecraft. While Leia was an excellent pilot, her expertise lay in dueling, while he was the one who excelled in piloting. So, in all likelihood, he’d have to be the one to pull the trigger. 

His passion for flying came from his Father. To kill him in such a personal way…

He couldn’t. 

And Leia seemed to understand that. “What if we didn’t go to the Death Star?” 

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t need to ask what she meant. “We were supposed to do that with Father.” 

“And look where he is. We don’t need him. We  _ destroyed  _ Jedha. You and me. Not you, me and Father. We did something the Emperor’s own weapon couldn’t do. He’s  _ afraid  _ of us. That’s why he stuck us on this ship in the first place.” 

“Father was supposed to be Emperor.” 

“Let Father destroy the useless Death Star. Let’s kill the Emperor, then you and I can rule the galaxy.  _ Together.”  _

The idea of staging their coup so suddenly and without Father made him hesitate--but not for long. Leia was right. They’d done what no other Sith or Jedi had ever done before. They were powerful as one, but together...no one could stop them. 

Not even their Father. 

“Let’s do it.” 

* * *

* * *

**One Year Later…**

Vader stared at the holovid showing the ‘humanitarian’ efforts led by his son. 

The  _ Emperor.  _

In moments like this, when he watched him working alongside volunteers to pass out food to a starving planet full of refugees, he almost saw the boy he knew. Short, blonde haired, blue-eyed, with a smile that melted even the coldest heart. His own included. But this was a carefully constructed ruse, meant to win over the citizens of the Galaxy. 

And it was working. 

The best lies were based in truth. At one point, this could have been the real Luke Naberrie-Skywalker. But he’d twisted him, he’d allowed  _ Sidious  _ to mold him, and now that light he loved about Luke was merely a pretty cover on the darkness that lay within. 

And of course, he used that to not only win citizens to him, but to his sister as well. 

The Empress. 

Though she was missing from the front lines of this charity case, she might as well have been there, given how much Luke gushed about her generosity in securing the funds and supplies to put it all together. Vader knew why: as inspiring as Leia could be, she was also  _ intense.  _ She had the perfect Sabacc face in front of politicians and military personnel, but her intensity could be off putting to the general populace. 

So Luke made up the difference. 

As a result, even after the destruction of the Death Star, the Rebellion hadn’t received the growth it had anticipated. It didn’t matter that Organa and Mothma tried to spread the truth of what happened to Jedha, either. No one could believe the Naberrie-Skywalker twins could accomplish such a feat, let alone be capable of it. And with news reports like this, where Luke was all smiles and flattering, pretty words, Vader could understand why. 

They had become far greater menaces than he’d ever intended. 

And he needed to save them. 

The plan had been to do so before the Death Star explosion. He’d expected them to be there, fighting for the Emperor to save the doomed super weapon. It’s what he would have done, despite never liking the damned thing. He’d hoped they could be captured, then...well, he didn’t know exactly what he’d do, but he’d do anything to undo the damage he’d done. With Obi-Wan’s help, it would have been possible. 

But they weren’t there. They used that as a distraction to kill Sidious and take the throne for themselves. 

And now they were what Sidious could never be: rulers the populace generally  _ wanted  _ to be behind. 

Some in the Rebellion thought it might have been because they were pretty faces. Vader knew otherwise. Through his training, and that of Sidious’, they were cunning, ruthless, and powerful. And they knew when to use each of their gifts and talents to their advantage. 

It made getting near them again almost impossible. The fact that they’d put an impossibly high bounty on his head didn’t help, either. Unlike most top Rebellion leaders, his suit didn’t exactly make it easy to blend in. 

If he was still following the path of the Sith, he might have carved a bloody path to them anyway. He had the power to do so. But if he wanted to save them, he needed to start acting the way he wanted them to act. 

After all, that had been one of the accusations Leia hurled at him when he’d told them what he’d thought of Jedha. 

_ Hypocrite.  _

She was right. But watching his children stretch forth their hands towards the planet, and then watching it disintegrate from  _ within... _ feeling the mass confusion and terror then sudden silence as the lives below were extinguished… 

A Death Star was a cold machine. It did nothing but follow the orders of those who commanded it. But Luke and Leia, his  _ children,  _ the people he loved most in the entire galaxy...they’d actively worked together to create the destruction Sidious had only dreamed of. 

There was no innocence left. They would never be the same. He likely could have handled it better, but there hadn’t been a single parenting book that covered how to handle one’s children becoming a super weapon of their own accord. 

He was broken from his musings at a tug on the renewed bond he shared with his old Master.  _ We have a lead.  _ He heard when he opened his mind to him.  _ Come quickly.  _

He tried not to get his hopes up. The palace on Coruscant was now more difficult to get into than ever. Plenty of leads had gone nowhere in the past. But Obi-Wan sounded hopeful this time, so Vader hurried from the room, cape billowing behind him. 

When he entered the room, Obi-Wan was standing over a man he recognized. Despite himself, his mood soured. “Solo.” He snarled, and the man jumped in his seat, his face going white. 

Even if he wasn’t really a...Sith anymore (honestly, he wasn’t sure what to call himself these days), he couldn’t help the resentment he felt upon seeing his daughter’s suitor. 

“You didn’t tell me  _ Vader was here!”  _ Solo whirled on Obi-Wan, but his usual egotistical, annoying pompousness was nowhere to be found. 

Instead, Vader sensed fear, but not of him. And deep, deep sorrow. 

“Last I saw, Leia took you as her consort.” He hated the words, but if Solo was here and not with the twins…

Sure enough, Solo’s expression hardened. “Not anymore.” 

“Lovers quarrel?” 

“ _ Anakin.”  _ Obi-Wan chidded. Shortly after Vader had fired the shot that destroyed the Death Star, his old Master had begun calling him that again. He couldn’t get him to stop. 

Solo ignored him. “Let’s just say it wasn’t as advertised.” 

He hadn’t liked Solo from the moment he caught Leia’s eye two years before, so he doubted he’d tell him the specifics of what happened. “So you’re joining the Rebellion?” 

That didn’t seem to be the man’s style. He figured he’d become a pirate or a smuggler, if anything. 

His answer told him everything he needed to know. “I need help. That b--” he threw him a nervous look, “Uh. The Empress has Chewie.” 

The wookie. Solo’s best friend. When Leia brought Solo home, and Solo dragged along his wookie friend, he thought Sidious would have a heart attack. He didn’t love non-humans, after all. Wookies especially. Leia never confirmed it, but he wondered if pissing Sidious off was part of Leia’s attraction to Han and his...friend. 

“And you thought the Rebellion would help.” 

Solo was silent. It was Obi-Wan who spoke up. “He knows the palace. He knows their current security measures. He’s the only willing defector since you who has managed to escape the twins with their life. If you want to get in, capture them and…” he hesitated. “Save your children, he’s our best shot.” 

“ _ Save  _ them?!” Solo asked, horrified. “You’re joking, right?” 

“Absolutely not.” Vader glared at him, though he couldn’t see it behind the mask. 

“Look, I get they’re your kids, but since you...ah, defected, they’ve turned into monsters. They’re not your kids anymore.” 

His fists clenched, his anger rising, even as Obi-Wan sent a  _ Please calm down  _ message over their bond. 

But Solo wasn’t done. “They hate you, you know that, right? After you abandoned them--turned to the people you taught them to hate. You turned against them. They don't believe what they’re doing is wrong, so why would they need to be saved?” 

Vader tried to ignore what he already well knew: they hated him. That message was clear given the massive bounty on his head. He tried to ignore the pointed look Obi-Wan gave him as Solo repeated the exact same argument Obi-Wan had made multiple times in regards to his children. Instead, he replied as he always did; “I’ve done unspeakable things too. And yet here I am.” 

He didn’t consider himself  _ redeemed  _ as Obi-Wan did, but it was still far better than what he used to be. He wouldn’t pretend that saving his children would be easy, but he believed it was possible. He knew there was good in them. 

And Solo was going to help him whether he liked it or not. 

* * *

“Would you like me to hunt him down and tear him to pieces?” 

She barely heard her brother as she yanked her lightsaber out of a training droid’s gut. She wished it was a real person. She wished it was a Rebel. She wished it was Han. 

She wished it was her father. 

_ Your father is right!  _ Han’s words echoed through her head,  _ you’re an abomination!  _

Her teeth clenched and she whirled, taking the head off another training droid that had come up from behind. 

“When I find him,” She seethed, “ _ I’ll  _ rip him limb from limb. Then I’ll force feed them to his precious  _ wookies!”  _

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” Luke replied dryly. “So what made him run off?” 

Her grip tightened on her lightsaber and she let out a frustrated scream as she stabbed it into a training droid’s eye. 

“Let me guess. Something to do with increasing the demand for wookie slave labor?” 

She whirled on him, pointing her lightsaber at him. He didn’t even flinch. Even casually leaning against the training room wall, wearing the pristine white and blue finery that he’d adopted since becoming Emperor, she had no doubt he’d be able to defend himself and keep up with her easily. Though he’d complain later about making him get his clothes dirty. 

How he kept those white boots as clean as the day they were given to him, she didn’t know. She half wondered if he had a secret closet somewhere full of them. 

“So that’s a yes.” He quirked a brow. 

She glared. “Among other things.” 

Honestly, she’d gotten the sense Han had been...cautious for some time now. But she figured he’d get over it. After all, besides she and Luke, he had more power and privilege than anyone else in the Empire. Just...not when it came to Kashyyk and the Wookie slave trade. It wasn’t  _ her  _ fault they were in high demand: their strength and resilience were natural traits needed in a good slave. 

“What are you going to do with Chewie?” 

She powered down her lightsaber and hooked it to her belt. In their escape attempt, they’d managed to capture Chewie. Han had been forced to leave him behind, though she’d felt his anguish at the idea. “He’ll come back for him.” 

“He’d be stupid to.” 

“But he will anyway.” 

“I know.” 

“And he’ll enlist help.” 

Luke was silent for a moment. “You don’t think…?” 

“Not intentionally. But if he goes to the Rebellion, Father will sniff him out.” 

“Father hates him--” 

“Father seems to be friends with a lot of people he claimed to hate. Including that  _ Jedi.”  _ She spat. Stars, when would Luke accept reality? Their father had betrayed them, in all the ways that counted. If he came back, it wouldn’t be to join them again. 

It would be to kill them. 

After all, they were Sith. And the fact that their spies confirmed their Father had teamed up with Obi-Wan Kenobi and was now considered a leader in the Rebellion (much to the reluctance of many), confirmed her suspicions. He’d literally chosen to side with the man who cut off his limbs and left him to _die_ burning to a crisp than be with them. 

Luke just needed to accept it. 

“So we trap them.” Luke concluded, and she didn’t miss that he avoided the subject of their Father’s renewed friendship. 

“Easier said than done.” She scoffed. 

“We trap them. And we use Force suppressors to do it.” 

She frowned. It could work. After they’d killed Sidious, they’d found a bunch of it stockpiled in one of his hidden chambers. But their Father was still Darth Vader, and before that, Anakin Skywalker. He wasn’t someone to be taken lightly. 

If there was bait…

“I’ll need to think on it more.” She waved it off. 

“Just let me know. I’ll make it happen.” Then he paused again. “So. About Chewie?” 

Yes. She did need to think up something terrible for him. Something that would hurt Han and make him regret he’d ever met her, let alone left her. “Chewie has a family, right?” 

“I think he said something about it once.” Luke shrugged. 

“Could we locate them quickly?” 

“Yeah, of course. But what exactly do you have in mind?” 

She met his stare. And smiled. 

“I hear fur is in this season.” 

* * *

He could sense him. Luke. He didn’t know where Leia was, and though what was left of his heart crushed over the thought of not bringing them both home, he wondered if it might be for the best. Once Leia made up her mind about something, it was incredibly difficult to change it. Unless, of course, you were Luke. He was the only one able to talk her out of something. 

So even as he, Obi-Wan and Solo moved towards the throne room, cutting down guards and Inquisitors as they went, he mentally began altering the plan. 

_ We’ll get Luke back, I’ll take him somewhere safe, Obi-Wan and I will...somehow convince him to come back, and once he does, we can bring Leia back together. They’re twins--she’ll listen to him. She’ll look for him. They’d never give up on each other… _

He repeated those words over and over again as they finally reached the throne room and Vader used the Force to rip the massive doors open. 

The throne room was as he’d last seen it. A long, marble hall, with windows set high above. Great red drapes framed the walls, accenting the black carpet that stretched from the doors all the way up to the dais. There, where he was used to seeing one throne, there were two. 

Luke stood there, leaning against one of them, watching expressionlessly as they approached. 

His steps faltered.  _ Luke,  _ he tried through their familial bond...the bond his children could never be rid of, no matter how they wished. 

He was different, and yet the same. He still had his mother’s sense of fashion: he wore deep blue trousers and a tunic, with a long, tailored blue-embroidered white jacket. His white boots stretched to his knees and appeared to be brand new. A silver circlet was woven into his golden locks. 

And his eyes. 

They were pure gold. 

He was the very picture of aristocratic perfection. And yet to Vader, who could  _ feel  _ him, he knew he was anything but. It was as if he were staring into the deep blackness of space. 

“Father.” Luke replied, coolly. “How good of you to finally return. With... _ friends.”  _ His gaze narrowed at Obi-Wan and Han, both of which had pulled their weapons on him. Not that it appeared to concern his son. 

“Where’s Chewie?!” Han demanded hotly. 

“With Leia.” Luke smiled, but it was completely joyless. A ghost of the happy one he used to have when he’d return from long campaigns away from Coruscant. He’d been so small then, and innocent, a light even in the darkness he was raised in. 

Vader tried to find that light again. To his horror, it was far more difficult than he’d expected, and what he did find was weak. Almost diminished completely. 

Obi-Wan saw it too.  _ Anakin, he’s too far gone. We need to move to plan B-- _

_ He is my child! They’re both my children! There is no plan B!  _

_ Anakin-- _

He shoved him out of his head. 

“Luke.” He said again, verbally this time.  _ Pleading.  _ “Come with us.” 

“ _ With  _ you?” Luke snorted. “Why? So I can be left at the mercy of the traitors and thieves you now call friends?” 

“No,” he replied earnestly, fiercely, “Come  _ home.  _ With me. We’ll...we’ll go away. Far away.” 

He didn’t miss the irony of these words. Hadn’t he seen this before? That night on Mustafar? Padme had asked him almost the same thing.  _ Begged.  _ And he’d rewarded her with the same sneer Luke had now. 

“Last I checked, I  _ am  _ home.” He gestured mildly to the walls around him. “Coruscant is the only home I’ve ever known. You yourself wanted me on this throne, did you not?” 

“I was  _ wrong.” _

Luke shook his head in disgust. “Sith don’t admit fault.” He reminded him. 

“I’m not a Sith.” 

“So you’re a Jedi?” 

“I’m...I am your Father. And I want better for you.  _ Don’t become me.”  _

Luke went silent, tilting his head in consideration, even as Vader felt his hesitation, his conflict. Hope he so rarely felt these days began to spread through him, and though he heard Obi-Wan’s warning in his head, he stepped towards his son…

Something sharp stung into the flesh of his upper arm. Instinctively, he whirled, his lightsaber ignited in his hand. He was  _ sure  _ Luke was alone. He hadn’t sensed any…

And he still didn’t. Even as the massive curtains parted and out stepped multiple inquisitors from all sides, wielding not lightsabers, but…

“Did you know the Emperor had a horde of Force dampening weapons?” Luke asked, casually as Vader looked down to find a dart imbedded through the sleeve of his armor. When he looked in panic to Obi-Wan and Solo, he found his old master with the same. “The fluid in those tranquilizers are experimental. Good to know they work, because I can’t sense either of you anymore.” 

He whirled back on his son, stepping forward to...to do...he  _ didn’t know what,  _ but something, anything to get out of this situation with his boy with him. But even as he did, Luke lifted a hand and his lightsaber yanked out of his fingers. The force of it unbalanced him and he crashed to his knees, watching as his weapon soared into Luke’s hands.

Luke twisted it expertly in his hands. “If you’re not a Sith or a Jedi, then I don’t think you need their weapon.” 

He attempted to get back to his feet, instinctively reaching for the power that had always been there for him, and came up empty. He was forced back to his knees by two inquisitors, black, shimmering Force-represent cuffs slapped over his wrists, further sealing his fate. 

He could imagine Obi-Wan’s reaction without having to turn to look. 

_ I told you so.  _

But as he watched Luke settle into his throne, throwing his legs over the arm of it, fiddling absently with his lightsaber, he remembered a much different boy. 

_ “This is a lightsaber. One day, you’ll have your own.”  _

The memory rang clear in his mind, and he remembered how he’d given the tiny five year old the hilt of his weapon. Luke had fiddled with it much as he did now, then to his horror, pointed the blade end straight at his face. He’d managed to yank it back in time before any serious damage could occur. 

_ “I want one, just like yours!”  _ Luke later told him. 

And now not only did Luke have his own, but he still played with his father’s, just as he did at five. 

That alone only settled his determination. Luke was still  _ in there.  _ And he wouldn’t give up while he still breathed. 

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” He tried, desperately. He wasn’t afraid of torture or death. He was afraid of what it would do to his son. The boy who’d once loved him so fiercely. Who, Vader was certain, still did. 

But a new voice interrupted before Luke could respond. 

“It had to end this way the moment you decided to betray us.” 

He knew that voice just as well as he knew Luke’s, or his own. He turned his head, finding Leia appearing through a hidden door. But though he knew it was Leia, for a moment his brain told him it was someone entirely different. 

She wore a gold, fur-trimmed, knee-length coat, with gleaming black swirls woven throughout. A matching tunic hugged her curves underneath, with bronze, tailored trousers and leather, fur-trimmed boots accenting the look. The brown fur trimming the coat and the boots looked like it was from the same animal, though Vader couldn’t identify it immediately, but some detached, crazy part of his mind that didn’t seem to quite grasp the reality of the situation thought he should tell her to change into something else. It was the middle of summer, after all. She’d be sweltering by the end of the day, and the fur wasn’t practical.

But it was her face that had all words, practical and impractical, dying on his lips. Her skin was unnaturally and intentionally pale, likely accomplished with a fair amount of makeup. Instead of a crown, her dark hair was braided through an elaborate headdress of pure white everlilies arranged in such a way that was as if she’d stolen the halo from an angel and made it her own. It was not the fashion statement of a Coruscantian Noble, but that of a Nubian Queen. 

And she’d managed to look exactly like her mother. 

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. 

Always the one to maintain her composure, she cooly sat down on the throne next to Luke’s. She didn’t fiddle with her coat or the kyber crystal rings on her fingers (Ezra’s and Ahsoka’s, if the rumors were true). She simply sat ram-rod straight, hands settled calmly on the arm rests, and gold eyes staring straight at the scene before her. 

She observed for a moment, then smiled. It didn’t touch her eyes, and he felt chills run up his back. 

“Han.” When had her voice sounded so frozen? It was almost a blessing not to be able to sense her. He was afraid of what he’d find. “Welcome back. I  _ missed  _ you.” 

“Like hell you did!” Solo snarled, and he tried to pull away from the guards that held him captive. They held fast. “Where’d you put Chewie?!” 

An emotion flickered across her face, finally. Cruel pleasure. 

“Oh, he’s here.” 

Vader’s gaze settled on her coat. The boots. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit,  _ where is he?!”  _

“I assure you.” Casually, she crossed a leg, kicking her foot out slightly. “Chewie is right here.” 

Solo, for once in his life, went silent as she leaned forward slightly, a wicked grin spreading over her face. “ _ And so is his family.”  _

For the first time in many, many years, Vader felt like he was going to throw up. 

By the Force…

He’d never…

This wasn’t…

_ What had he done?!  _

Solo’s shock, even without the Force, was palpable. Leia closed her eyes, clearly drinking in his misery. Then she began to laugh as Solo finally released a strangled scream, twisted with fury, horror, and  _ anguish.  _

The pain. The raw, bleeding pain in those screams…

Vader would never forget it. It was the same he’d felt when he’d lost Padme. Except no one had  _ skinned and worn his dead wife.  _

Even Palpatine wasn’t that evil. 

But...but this was  _ Leia.  _ The little girl he’d held in his lap as she told him about her day, talking non-stop. He...confessed he often tuned her out. Not because he loved her any less than Luke, but because he truly didn’t understand pointless rivalries between four year olds and their schoolmates. 

Now he’d give the galaxy to return to that time, not only to listen to her sweet innocence, but beg her not to...not to become  _ this.  _

Had Luke allowed this? Had he truly stood by and watched as the Wookie and his family had been skinned...likely skinned alive? Or had he turned away, gone off on some mission if only to avoid his sister’s cruelty? 

“Oh,  _ Han,  _ what fun we’ll have later. Because  _ believe me,  _ we will have plenty of time together.” The smile that touched her lips was wicked and full of hate. “Maybe I’ll return you to be with your friend forever. A lovely trimmed lampshade, perhaps?” 

“Leia!” Vader cut in, horrified by the realization that she was  _ serious.  _ “Even Sidious would never condone such barbaric--” 

“Oh, but  _ father,”  _ Leia’s eyes flashed as she leaned forward. “We’re  _ abominations.  _ Just like you said. Isn’t this what  _ abominations  _ do?” 

He opened his mouth...but no words came out. It was suddenly difficult to even remember how to speak. What could he even  _ say?  _ His previous words, said in a moment of horror over what his children had done, over what  _ he’d  _ done to them, had now come back to haunt him. 

This...this was his fault. 

Leia waved a hand at her guards. By then, Han had stopped screaming, and when Vader glanced back at him, there was no light left in those eyes. “Take Han to my personal cells. I’ll deal with him myself later.” 

A lampshade. 

_ She couldn’t be serious.  _

But she was. 

He didn’t want to admit it. But anyone who would go so far couldn’t be good. There...there couldn’t be light left in her, not after what she’d done, not after what she planned to do with Han, a  _ human being she’d once claimed to love.  _

But Luke…

Luke was his only chance. Luke was the one person who could change this. Who could save them all. 

He turned his gaze to him. “Luke.  _ Please.  _ You know this is madness.” 

Luke didn’t look at him. He was staring resolutely at his lightsaber twirling in his hands, his expression, for once, unreadable. He’d always been able to read his son…

“It’s like Leia said.” His voice was distant. Too casual. “We’re just living up to your  _ expectations.”  _

“I...I didn’t mean…” 

“What? That we’re not abominations?” Leia mocked, standing from her throne. “You made it  _ clear  _ that’s exactly how you felt!” 

His chest felt like it was caving in under the weight of reality. “I...I meant  _ I  _ am the one who is the abomination, and…” 

He trailed off. 

“And you made us into one.” Leia finished for him, rolling her eyes. 

Eyes that, when they weren’t gold, were deep brown, just like her mothers. In fact, if he pretended this was another life, one where Padme had lived and they’d raised their children together on Naboo, he could almost pretend Leia was following in her mother’s footsteps, ruling Naboo…

But that life hadn’t happened. And his sweet, beautiful wife would  _ never  _ have condoned what her daughter had become. 

What he’d turned her into. 

“I have failed you.” He choked out. “I have failed you both.” 

Luke’s fingers stilled, though he still didn’t look at them. 

“Your father loves you.” Obi-Wan. He sounded old, far older than he was. And defeated. He fully expected to die. 

“My  _ father  _ is a traitor.” Leia hissed. “And at least we’re abominations who didn’t turn on everything they were brought up to believe in.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I am the one who turned. I turned on my beliefs. I  _ killed  _ children, and all it did was bring me misery.” 

“Glad we were such burdens, father.” Leia snarled. 

“That’s-- _ no.  _ I want  _ better  _ for you! I…” The words didn’t come naturally. He’d never said it to them, believing they needed firm guidance to become who they were meant to be. 

But he said the words anyway. 

“I  _ love  _ you!” 

The words echoed. 

Leia’s face contorted with rage and disbelief. 

Luke...Luke’s impassive face turned to look at him, finally. 

“Please.” He implored, wishing he could access his bond with them only to show them how he genuinely meant it. What it  _ meant  _ to be loved.  _ “Please.  _ I love you, come back!” 

Luke’s eyes slid to Leia’s back. He hoped, prayed he’d finally gotten through…

Leia snorted. “Come back where?” She gestured around them. “This is all we’ve ever known,  _ father.”  _

Then, she gestured to the inquisitors surrounding them. “Kill them.” 

He heard lightsabers being ignited. 

Vader reached...he reached for Luke. Didn’t notice the hatred that flared in his daughter’s eyes. 

“Luke.  _ Son.  _ Please--” 

He listened to Obi-Wan cry out, then the thud of his body. 

He felt the heat of those red, angry blades as they approached his back. 

This was it. This was his death. He’d failed, just as Obi-Wan had warned. And yet he couldn’t find it in him to regret it. Not as he looked at his children and remembered them as small, young ones, hugging his legs when he returned home. Wrapped in his cape when they were cold. Practicing with him in the sparring room. Learning to fly…

And though Leia was too far gone, he knew this would destroy his son. This would tear him apart...and if it meant that someday he returned to the light, then he’d gladly give his life. 

But the likelihood of that happening...

“ _ Luke--”  _

* * *

Watching the blade cut through her father’s body, Leia felt...suddenly empty. Both she and Luke stared at the bodies heaped on the floor. She’d never cared or known Kenobi...oddly, shortly after his body had been cut in two, it seemed to disappear, leaving nothing but a tattered brown cloak behind. Her Inquisitors were stepping on the cloak, confused on where the body had gone. 

She didn’t care. He was her father’s supposed rival, not hers. 

But her father…

His body remained. Motionless. Lifeless. Even with the Force suppressing manacles on him, even with the suppressor still coursing in his veins, she knew he was dead. 

And she felt...nothing. 

Perhaps she’d have felt better had she been the one to do it. Or make Luke do it. But when she looked back at him, he was still staring at their father’s body, his expression utterly devoid of emotion. 

That was...a new development. 

She didn’t like it. 

“Summon some cleaning droids.” She said. “Let them handle the trash and dump him in a trash chute.” 

Luke looked to her, met her eyes. For a moment, she thought...but no. He’d never turn on her. He was her twin. Her best friend. The only person in the entire galaxy she could trust. 

But those eyes...they were empty. 

And when he spoke…

“So. About that state dinner tonight.” 

She hesitated. Just like that? Luke, the boy who’d loved his father more than anything, was just...going to change the subject without even commenting on it? 

But...perhaps it was for the best. If he could forget about their dead father...yes. That was for the best. 

So she continued the conversation as cleaning droids entered the room and began to drag their father’s heavy, armored body away. 

“I’m thinking of a red and gold color scheme…” 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeaaaaaaah I was in a mood for something dark, so here we go! I actually wrote most of it back in March but then didn't get to finishing it until recently. It's definitely the darkest thing I've published. Either way, hope you enjoyed!


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